


Tricks of War

by StolenChilde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Humor, Language, M/M, M/M kissing, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:35:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StolenChilde/pseuds/StolenChilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Before a pagan god dies, they choose someone to take over their position in the event of their death. Knowing that he is probably about to die, Gabriel decides to pull off one last trick and makes Dean Winchester his successor.</i> However, the job is not without its own problems. Dean’s trying to keep his extracurricular activities under Sam’s radar, not prepared to share this new development with his brother yet. Sam though, continues to be just as brilliant as Dean always knew he was and quickly picks up on something suspicious. When Castiel pops back into their lives, things get a whole lot more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tricks of War

**Author's Note:**

> All right, I hope my recipient is pleased with this. The prompt was left open ended, so I potentially took it in direction the prompter wasn't anticipating. Hope you like it anyway! Parts of this fic were directly quoted from _Supernatural_ 5.21. Written for the Spring 2012 [](http://spn-bigpretzel.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_bigpretzel**](http://spn-bigpretzel.livejournal.com/) Fic Exchange. Please enjoy!
> 
>  **Artist:** [](http://shakensilence.livejournal.com/profile)[**shakensilence**](http://shakensilence.livejournal.com/)  
>  **Recipient:** [](http://aceofannwn.livejournal.com/profile)[**aceofannwn**](http://aceofannwn.livejournal.com/)  
>  Big special thanks to my amazing beta [](http://dapperscript.livejournal.com/profile)[**dapperscript**](http://dapperscript.livejournal.com/) and my wonderful artist [](http://shakensilence.livejournal.com/profile)[**shakensilence**](http://shakensilence.livejournal.com/)! It was a pleasure working with you!

  


**Tricks of War**

Dean was in the middle of a fantastic dream involving Castiel, an apple pie, and a bottle of syrup, when he was mind-jumped by absolutely the last person he ever expected - or wanted - to be mind-jumped by. Firstly, because said person was kinda dead, and secondly, because Dean was still a little pissed at the guy for the TV-land fiasco.

“What the hell?” Dean exclaimed, physically jumping away when the all-too-cocky face of Gabriel - formerly known as the Trickster, and also known as Loki - appeared in front of him. Dean had the inane urge to cover his nakedness in his own freaking head. His head that had just been invaded by a psychotic _dead_ archangel.

Gabriel leered and waggled his eyebrows, “Looking sharp, Deano… Violating my baby-brother aside, of course.”

Dean turned to his left, about to toss the sheets over Dream-Cas, but realized the blue-eyed angel was nowhere to be found.

“Dude, what gives? You don’t just go in invading a man’s personal thoughts like that… Then taking those personal thoughts _away_ , thank you very much,” Dean said petulantly. “That was a damn good dream.”

Gabriel grinned, “Well it certainly looked promising; but when is it not when pie, syrup, and sex are involved, eh? Always did admire your style, Deano… Truly.”

“Yeah, it really showed when you killed me all those times,” Dean retorted. “What the fuck do you want, Gabriel?”

“I’m disappointed in you, Dean… You didn’t finish the little movie I made just for you,” Gabriel sighed.

“Yeah well… that was way more of you than I ever wanted to see,” Dean replied. “Is that all? You’re here to whine to me about not watching your naked glory? ‘Cause if you ask me, that’s kind of a waste of whatever trick you have going right now… I mean… dude, when we went back, I saw your wings on the floor; I know what that means.”

“Good for you,” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Well, I had one last hurrah in me, good thing I didn’t waste it. I figured I should have a back-up plan in case my manhood was too much for your maidenly sensibilities.”

“Are you going to get to the point at some… er… point?” Dean blushed faintly.

“Cute little monkey,” Gabriel sneered. “Father, why have this one be my only option…? I mean really? This one?” Gabriel shook his head, “Good thing you’re pretty, Dean, that’s all I can say… So now the point of this little visit: I may have been lying a teeny-tiny bit about the whole trickster thing—”

“Ya think?” Dean interrupted.

With a glare, Gabriel continued, “ _But_ it was also a little more than mere witness protection. It was the real deal. The job was mine. Kinda had to be when I smacked Loki’s pitiful ass out of this body and jumped him. If I hadn’t, Coyote would have encroached on his territory, and that was one turf war I really didn’t want to have a part in starting, let me tell you…”

“Oh God… How do you even store enough air in that body to talk as much as you do?” Dean groaned, flopping back on the bed and silently asked the ceiling, ‘Why me?’

“Gee, someone’s cranky when his school-girl fantasies get interrupted… Sheesh,” Gabriel pouted.

“Hey!” Dean glared, sitting up again. “And you know what? You’re an asshole.”

“Ah… I love when you sweet talk me, Deano… Makes me feel all gooey inside,” Gabriel clutched his hands below his chin and mockingly swooned.

“You know what? Screw this, I’m just gonna…” Dean reached across to his own arm to pinch, “wake myself up.”

“Wait!” Gabriel shouted, though to Dean’s dreaming ears it sounded more like a roar, and made the green-eyed hunter stop in his tracks. Gabriel calmed down again and tried to force a smile back on his face.

“My point, Dean, is I took over the role of Loki. I had to, to preserve the balance, so now that I’ve checked out and am heading for the Spirit in the sky—”

“Did you just quote Norman Greenbaum at me?” Dean asked flatly.

“You know, it’s weird, but that song’s always freaked me out a little,” Gabriel frowned curiously into the distance.

“Yeah, that is weird… Now correct me if I’m wrong, Gabe, but you were making a point?”

“Whatever…” Gabriel waved it off. “I was. My slot can’t go on being empty, Bucko, and unfortunately for me - but to your _great_ fortune - you’re my only option.”

Dean blinked, startling back from the small head-invader. “Wait… What?”

“Look, I gotta appoint someone to take my place… And like I said, I like your style and you’re one of the last few humans to see me alive. I figure you can do all right filling my position, so I’m bestowing it on you… Kinda don’t have a whole lotta time though, so I hope you’re not expecting any pomp or circumstance.”

“ _Wait… What_?” Dean repeated more forcedly.

Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples, “Oh Father who aren’t in Heaven…”

“It’s ‘art,’” Dean corrected absently, still rather in shock over his former nemesis’ revelation.

“Well he ain’t… so it’s aren’t…”

“Wouldn’t it be isn’t?” Dean asked curiously.

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Focus, Dean! You. Dean. Human. Get. My. Powers. You. Dean. Human. No longer. Just human,” Gabriel said very slowly.

Dean came out of it with a blink, now looking rather more intrigued as he glanced up at Gabriel. “All your powers?” Dean asked casually.

Gabriel cocked his head a little at the abrupt transformation. He came back to himself quickly and answered, “Well… most of them… Not the archangel-y ones… That whole killing people hundreds of times trick? Not exactly in your repertoire.”

“Ooo… big word for a little man,” Dean taunted.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, “Not impressed.”

“Whatever,” Dean shrugged. “Give me the run-down, then.”

“Wait… That’s it?” Gabriel asked, barely concealing his surprise at the rapid capitulation.

“Dude, I’m in the middle of an apocalypse. I ain’t about to look a gift-horse in the mouth…” Then Dean added, mostly as an afterthought, “Though you’d be more of a gift Shetland pony.” He flashed a cocky grin.

“Yeah, the short jokes get _more_ amusing every time… Bully for you,” Gabriel rolled his eyes again. “Well, if that’s it, then. Wham, bam, thank you Ma’am,” Gabriel snapped his fingers, and Dean woke up.

xx

It wasn’t until later that morning, when Dean paused in putting his fourth heaping teaspoon of sugar in his coffee, that he realized he never actually _did_ get the run-down.

“Ah… Dean, you all right?” Sam asked, eyeing Dean like he was a shape-shifter.

“Um… Not exactly Sammy,” Dean said, a little shakily.

Sam put on his sympathetic face. “Is it Cas? We’ll find him, Dean, don’t you worry.”

“Ah… yeah, thanks Sam,” Dean muttered, shifting awkwardly in his seat. His Castiel-induced guilt was not something he really wanted to dwell on at the moment, though it was there and just as raw as ever. Right now, though, he had to figure out exactly what it was he was _supposed to do_. Oh God, that meant research. Stupid dead-angel-turned-pagan-gods running off and leaving him in the dark after giving him a mystical battery charge. He could feel the buzz of newly acquired power under his skin, dancing along each nerve-ending and painting the world in a strange fucking rose-coloured glow.

Also, when he looked at certain people, he saw a flash, or a spark in them, something not at all pleasant, but rather dark and menacing. Dean’s internal voice screamed ‘he’s an asshole’ each time his gaze so much as flickered over these darkly shining people. So, easy enough to find targets then… But was there a quota he had to fill? Knock half a dozen douchebags flat on their nozzles each month, or something? Dean rubbed his temple, took a sip of coffee, and grimaced. He heaped two more spoonfuls of sugar in the cup before it became halfway palatable.

“Dean…?” Sam asked, his tone now even more concerned as he edged away and groped beside him.

“If you’re looking for the holy water, it won’t do shit,” Dean said. “Sam, if I tell you, you’re gonna freak out.”

“Jesus, Dean, you don’t _say_ stuff like that, then not _say_. What the hell is going on?” Sam asked insistently, leaning across the table top.

Dean met his stare levelly for a few moments before he sighed and turned away.

“Not here, I’ll tell you later,” Dean muttered. Then Dean felt this strong… pull. Urge even.

Dean frowned when he realized he wasn’t in the Kansas Diner anymore, instead, he was out in front of a school. A high school by the looks of the children’s ages, and he was dressed in itchy, starchy coveralls, like a janitor would wear.

“Huh, handy,” Dean muttered to himself. “I guess the powers are, like, on automatic or something.” Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered into the school, amazed that no one even gave him a second glance. He looked around, curious, trying to find what had pulled him here, when his gaze zeroed in on a chunky man dressed in a suit that looked far, far out of his budget. He was grinning oily at a boy next to him.

Gee… that didn’t look suspicious at all.

The hallway was relatively deserted; the bell must have rung a few minutes ago and the last few kids were trickling into their classrooms when Dean had entered. But the oily man and the boy he was talking to weren’t moving. The boy looked faintly uncomfortable and shifted his grip on the knapsack he had slung over his shoulder. Dean grabbed a bucket and mop from the supply closet and began to casually wipe at the floor. By rights, he should have been too far away hear their conversation, but Dean chalked his super-hearing up to the trickster powers.

“Look… Mr. Cooper… I really appreciate you trying to get me scouted, but I don’t think—” The boy shifted uncomfortably again, the white leather of his letterman jacket creaking faintly in the hallway. Football, maybe?

“Geoff, Geoff, Geoff… Believe me, all the kids that are scouted are on steroids. It’s practically expected now, trust me. All that stuff you hear about them? Completely not true. Come on, Geoff, I’m your vice-principal, would I lie to you?” Mr. Cooper grinned.

“N…no… Probably not, but I think if I just train harder… I mean, I’m only sixteen. Coach says I’m really close to nailing that pitch, you know? I think I’ll just—” Pitch. Baseball then. Dean clenched his hands around his mop. Who was this asshole, trying to get a good kid into drugs?

“Geoff, here,” Mr. Cooper handed the boy a small brown baggy. “I’ll give this to you, for you to think about. I’m sure you’ll make the right choice; you’re a good boy. I see big things in the cards for you.”

“Big things?” Geoff asked hopefully, his hand closing tighter around the bag.

“Oh, yes,” Mr. Cooper nodded. He patted Geoff on the shoulder before wandering away.

Dean continued to mop as he waited anxiously, one eye on Geoff, the other trailing Cooper down the hall. Geoff looked at the small bag, opened it, and peered inside. He crinkled it closed quickly and stared at the tile under his toes, biting his lip. Dean shifted, completely ignorant to the fact that he had stopped mopping as he waited. Geoff suddenly shook his head and jogged up to one of the trash bins in the hallway, dumping the bag, before running off down the hall, presumably for class.

Dean smiled and nodded, then narrowed his eyes in the opposite direction. Without really knowing how, Dean suddenly appeared in the vice-principal’s office. The man was on the phone, feet up on his desk.

“Yeah, I got another one. I’m gonna have the old bastard’s job any day now. Just you wait,” Cooper was saying. Dean snapped his fingers once, grinning wickedly to himself, before disappearing once again.

“Dean! I can’t believe what a jerk you are, I mean come _on_ , Man. What the hell?” Sammy was whining. Dean blinked, and looked around himself. He was once more sitting in the booth across from his brother. Their breakfast had only just arrived, by the looks of his still-steaming eggs, and clearly Sam hadn’t noticed he had just gone God knows where.

“Just tell me what’s going on, Dean,” Sam concluded.

Dean looked across at his brother, “Ah… honestly Sam? I’m a little bit confused myself… Eat your breakfast.”

Sam grumbled before digging into his whole-grain waffles. Dean had won for now.

xx

A few days later, a news bulletin came on as Dean and Sam were packing up their things and getting ready to leave. Dean turned a half-interested ear; Sam was usually the one who decided to put the news on for some background noise as they were packing up. It was useful occasionally in learning about their next hunt. Though when Dean caught wind of the name the pretty young broadcaster said, he turned his full attention to the television.

“ _High school Vice-Principal Norman Cooper has been taken into custody today. At this time, Cooper is being charged with possession of steroids. However, there has been some speculation that Cooper has been providing the performance enhancing drugs to several students at the school in which he was employed, one student, whose name we will not reveal as he is a still a minor, has already come forward with the information that Cooper attempted to influence him to begin taking the performance enhancing drugs. Ironically, the steroids were discovered following a random sweep that Cooper himself had initiated. He had been approached by a drug detecting canine and was immediately taken into custody…_ ”

Sam turned the volume down on the television before turning it off. “What kind of person can do that to kids?” The taller Winchester commented with disgust. “But hey, if that’s not karma, I don’t know what is. He got what he deserved.”

Dean smiled to himself, small and knowing as he zipped up his duffle, “Yep, sure did.”

xx

Over the next several weeks, more and more news stories began cropping up about dicks getting their just-desserts. Sam, being the intelligent and observant hunter that he was, did not take at all long to put two and two together. He shifted uncomfortably as he put aside yet another article and typed in a few more words in the search bar on his laptop.

“Ah… Dean. I think we have another one,” Sam called.

“Another what?” Dean asked around his mouthful of caramel, nougat, and chocolate as he watched a re-run of _Dr. Sexy_.

Sam looked at the older man speculatively for a moment. Dean had always enjoyed sweets and chocolate, sure, but this was getting ridiculous. Maybe Dean was going through early male-menopause or something? Or, more likely, he was trying to eat his feelings over Castiel’s continued absence. Sam vowed to try and talk to Dean about it again. Even if he would have to drag it out of his brother kicking and screaming.

“Ah… another Trickster. I mean, have you noticed all the crazy karma crap happening lately? It seems like every time we hit a new town, some other dick is getting it, you know?” Sam said. “What is really troubling is that whatever this thing is, it seems to be following _us_. Gabriel’s acts were always kind of localized, but this guy is hopping all over the country. I think maybe we should turn our focus on it for a while.”

Dean had gone very, very still. “Ah… Sam… Apocalypse, remember? Do you think now is really the time to be changing targets?”

“Dean… this is getting kind of serious though, we’re already up to fifteen casualties,” Sam said.

“So what, Sammy? They’re all dicks anyway. I think we should just let this Trickster guy do his job and leave him alone. Remember the last time we tried to interfere? Didn’t go too well, I seem to recall,” Dean snapped, probably harsher that he should have. He tried to cover it up by yelling at the television screen as if that were the source of his ire.

Sam sighed, “Dean, come on. Sure, it’s assholes that are getting it, but this is a bit much. We can’t just let it go.”

Dean huffed, “Well… whatever, Sam, if you want to look into a guy that just seems to be dealing out justice, then fine, you go for it. I, on the other hand, am going to focus on what’s really important… Like um… stopping Lucifer?”

“Dean,” Sam said exasperated, “of course I want to stop Lucifer, but since when do you just let monsters stroll around and do what they want? That is kind of our thing, Dean, to stop the bad guys? Remember?”

“Yeah, yeah… I just think finding this guy would take more effort than we can afford to give right now… I’m sure he’s a slippery little bastard just like the last. I just don’t think you’ll find him, that’s all.” Dean shifted again, careful not to meet Sam’s eyes, which was easy when he was pretending to be completely absorbed in his show. “If he starts ganking good people, I’ll get on board. Right now, why don’t we just leave him be and—” Dean was cut off by his phone ringing. He fumbled for it, eager for the distraction. He didn’t recognize the number, but that wasn’t terribly unusual.

“We’re done with this,” Dean said firmly, before turning his attention to his phone. “Hello.”

“Dean.”

“Cas?”

“Is he okay?” Sam broke in, standing up from the table.

“We all thought you were dead. Where the hell are you, man?”

“A hospital.”

“Are you okay?”

In typical Castiel fashion, he answered with a succinct, “No.”

Dean waited a beat before he said, “You want to elaborate?”

“I just woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised. They thought I was brain-dead.”

“S…so, a hospital?”

“Apparently, after Van Nuys, I suddenly appeared, bloody and unconscious, on a shrimping boat off Delacroix. I’m told it upset the sailors.”

“Well, I got to tell you, man, you’re just in time…” Dean said aloud before adding silently, _You provide an excellent distraction_.

“In time for what?” Castiel asked flatly.

“Ah… helping with the devil?” Dean offered only to be met with silence. “Whatever, if you just wanna zap over here…”

“I can’t ‘zap’ anywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“You could say my batteries are… are drained.”

“What? You’re out of angel mojo?”

“I’m saying that I’m thirsty, and my head aches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it, and I’m saying that I’m just incredibly…”

“Human,” Dean finished. “Wow. Sorry.”

Castiel sighed heavily, “Yes, well, my point is, I can’t go anywhere without money for an… airplane ride… And food… And more pain medication, ideally.”

 _Perfect_! Dean mentally crowed in triumph, at the same time feeling a little guilty about it, before saying aloud, “Well look, no worries… We aren’t that far out of Delacroix anyway, Sammy and I can jump in the car and come get you.”

“Dean!” Sam protested. “What about the trick—”

“Just give me the name of the hospital and try and hang in there. We’ll be on our way soon,” Dean said, scribbling down Castiel’s instructions on the motel stationary. “See you shortly.”

“Dean, wait,” Castiel broke in before Dean could conclude the phone call. “You said ‘no’ to Michael. I owe you an apology.”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, “Ah… Cas, it’s okay.”

“You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man I believed you to be,” Castiel delivered in a perfectly even tone.

Dean would have smacked himself in the face if it wouldn’t have looked stupid, before replying sarcastically, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome,” Castiel answered grimly. Dean looked at his phone blankly for a moment before rolling his eyes and tucking it away.

“Let’s go, Sam! Cas is waiting,” Dean grabbed his duffle and began shoving his things inside of it.

“Dean! What the hell? You don’t want to interrupt the apocalypse to fight a real, actual threat, but you’re willing to drop everything and drive hundreds of miles to retrieve your wayward angel? Are you serious? Can’t he, like… I don’t know, take a bus?”

“Sam,” Dean glared. “It’s Cas… After all the shit he’s done for us, you really want him to jump on a bus? He’s human now, have some compassion!”

Sam looked down at the dirty carpet and shifted uneasily. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m sure he could probably help us anyway… I don’t imagine he’s lost all his knowledge of the supernatural just because he lost his mojo…”

“Right, exactly. Get your gear and let’s head out.”

Now hopefully, this would keep Sam off his back until Dean could figure out what to do about the whole Trickster thing. He just hoped he came up with a good idea soon, because this was getting stressful.

xx

Dean really, really should have known better. It was actually almost embarrassing. Castiel, human and stoned out of his mind in the future, had been able to see that Dean wasn’t _Dean_ , so really, he shouldn’t have been at all surprised that the minute Dean stepped into the hospital room, change of clothes in hand, Castiel knew something was up.

“Dean, you’re different,” Castiel said, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Dean thanked whoever was watching that Sam was taking care of the insurance at the front desk. This would not be a good way for his little brother to find out about his… upgrade.

“Ah… surprise?” Dean offered lamely.

“What did you do? Did you make a deal with Michael?” Castiel asked abruptly, sitting up in bed, only to hiss and fall back against the pillows. “Dean, I thought you had—”

“Cas! No! I didn’t make a deal with Michael… Jesus. Look, this whole thing, can we keep it hush-hush for now? Sam will be in here any minute and he doesn’t exactly—”

“Dean, I thought you knew better than to keep things from us. This road never leads anywhere good.” Castiel was not at all pleased and Dean could see that clearly, as Castiel was proudly wearing his _not-at-all-pleased_ look.

Dean winced, “Look, I’ll explain later, just not around Sam. I just—”

Dean blinked around himself and cursed, “Shit!”

His powers had decided to spontaneously transport him again, Dean noticed as he looked around the unfamiliar building with a glare. Where had they taken him now?

Faintly, in the distance, Dean heard the familiar braying of dogs and he tensed immediately, thinking he was back to facing down hellhounds. He shook it off, though, realizing that was kind of ridiculous, because there was no reason for anyone to come collecting him today. Unless Meg was back… Dean narrowed his eyes, all set to kick that demon bitch’s ass for what she had done to Jo and Ellen. He could so do it, too. He grinned a little gleefully as the power rippled under his skin. He concentrated and moved towards the sounds, not at all frightened now.

He was actually a little surprised about what he found, though, as he came out the other end of the hallway. The pained barking of the dogs was coupled immediately with excited masculine cheers. Dean edged out from around the corner and felt a heavy queasiness pool in the pit of his stomach. It was a fucking dog-fighting ring.

Now, Dean didn’t exactly have the same fondness for dogs after his run-in with hellhounds, but that didn’t mean they deserved this to happen to them. They were innocent creatures thrust into horrible circumstances. Dean was not about to sit idly by and let this one slide. He crept into the room, willing himself to pass undetected between the sweaty, frantic masses. His eyes trying to find the one dark glimmer that stood out among the rest. It was difficult. Every one of the people in this room vibrated with toxic energy. His mental asshole radar was pinging with every move and glance. Difficult though it was, Dean did eventually locate the bastard who was leaning in a dark corner, a twisted smirk on his thin lips. Dean’s eyes darted back to the pen, not wanting to linger too long, but he had to judge the best way to do this and avoid any more animals getting hurt.

With a mental jolt, Dean rocked the dark room, the sadistic gamblers startled away from the pen, looking with curious and confused eyes up at the ceiling. The dogs had paused for the moment, ears perked and nostrils flaring. Dean rocked the room again and gamblers scattered further. The ring leader chose this time to move away from his wall, shoving his pad and handful of bills into his pocket. Dean grinned and snapped his fingers. In an instant, not only the pen, but all the cages in the building sprang open at once, and all the dogs zeroed in on their tormenter.

Dean’s final act was soothing the dogs before he brought in Animal Control and the Humane Society, mentally urging them towards rehabilitation. Dean began whistling as he spun on his heel and sauntered away from the ring. He pulled a celebratory chocolate bar free from his pocket and finished it in three bites, casually dripping the wrapper, before he blinked out of view and reappeared in Castiel’s hospital room.

“Time shifted,” the angel remarked the moment Dean had settled.

Dean frowned, “You can tell?”

Castiel looked exasperated, “I’m only _mostly_ human, Dean, even my mundane powers of perception can notice a shift so immense. Where did you go?”

“I had a job to do,” Dean said defensively.

“Dean—”

“All right, Cas, you’re all checked out,” Sam said, coming back in the room. “Doctor gave you a prescription for Vicodin so you’re gonna be pretty happy for a few days.”

Dean snatched the prescription away from his brother. “Can he just use Tylenol or something?”

Startled, Sam blinked, “Ah…”

“I’m controlling your use of this one,” Dean said sternly, pointing a finger at the falling angel.

Castiel furrowed his brow, “I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, and you aren’t going to. Here,” Dean tossed the clothes at Castiel. “Get dressed. I’ll take this to the pharmacy.”

“Dean, what about—” Castiel began.

Dean spun back around and looked insistently at the angel; his look clearly told the blue-eyed man to keep his mouth firmly closed. Castiel glared back, but Dean knew the message was received.

xx

Castiel kept his word for the next few days. For this, Dean was grateful. He wasn’t sure why he was so hesitant about informing Sam about his new abilities, but he imagined the kid wouldn’t take it all that well. He would probably bitch about something along the lines of: ‘Dean, you made me stop with the demon blood, that’s a power I was given, too. How is this any different?’ It was so totally different, Dean knew, but Sam probably wouldn’t be as accepting of that as Dean was.

That all blew up in Dean’s face, however, when Sam flicked on the news as they were packing up to leave another anonymous motel. Dean’s face drained of colour when he flicked a casual glance over to the television screen and saw his face staring back out at him, one of many in a crowd.

_“For months, undercover detectives and animal aid workers had been working to break up the horrendous crime. Please be warned that the images you are about to see are graphic, and may not be suitable for sensitive viewers._

_“It seemed a trick of fate three days ago when suddenly the abandoned warehouse where the illegal dog fights were being run met with a small localized earthquake. Reportedly, the building shook twice before the pen gave way. These images were captured by the concealed camera that one of the undercover officers was wearing. As you can see, many of the perpetrators had scrambled clear of the pen as the ground quaked. Miraculously, these dogs, who had been abused and tortured for years, rather than attacking the bystanders, made directly towards the ring’s leader. The man unfortunately did not survive the attack, but following the incident, the dogs lay down and were completely passive by the time Animal Control and the Humane Society reached the scene._

_“Call this what you will, divine intervention or fate, but due to the resulting behaviour of the animals following the initial attack, they will be taken to special care facility and an attempt will be made to rehabilitate them._

_“The animal world and animal lovers alike have gained one small victory today.”_

“Dean,” Sam began slowly, turning and glaring at his brother. “Why is your face on the six o’clock news in the middle of a raid on an illegal dog-fighting ring?”

Dean grinned, “Ah… I was helping?”

“Dean, three days ago you were standing in Castiel’s hospital room when this video was shot,” Sam said. “What the hell, man?”

“Ah… look Sammy, you know that thing you were worrying about?” Dean offered hesitantly.

“You need to be a little more specific than that,” Sam gritted out.

“I told you, you should have told him, Dean,” Castiel pointed out helpfully, from where he was flipping through Revelations at the small dinette table. Dean shot a glare at the falling angel.

Sam spun. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” Castiel scoffed. “A human undergoes a transformation this severe and it doesn’t just remain undetected.”

The vein in Sam’s temple twitched. “What happened, Dean? What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Dean said defensively. “I just accepted what was given.”

“Did you make a deal with Michael?” Sam asked urgently, coming forward and gripping Dean’s arm in a too-tight hold.

Dean scowled, “Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do I have a sign that says _Michael’s Bitch_ on my back or something? It wasn’t a deal with Michael! It wasn’t even a deal! It was an, um… inheritance.”

“Explain,” Castiel demanded, sitting up straight and slamming his book shut.

“Ditto,” Sam said.

Dean sighed, “Look… You guys remember Gabriel.”

“Of course,” Castiel furrowed his brow. “He’s dead.”

“Yeah, wings and all, Dude. Burned on the floor,” Sam remarked skeptically.

“Exactly!” Dean grinned.

Castiel and Sam shared a glance, and if that wasn’t one of the weirdest things for Dean to experience, he didn’t know what was. When they turned back to him, neither of them appeared to have any more of an understanding about what Dean had been trying to explain. Granted, he hadn’t been trying very hard, but he should have gotten bonus points for even deigning to have this conversation.

“Oh guys, come on. And they think I’m the dumb one?” Dean huffed. Cosmos Brain and Genius Boy surely should have put two and two together by now.

“You don’t have to be cruel,” Castiel said, petulantly.

“Yeah, Dean, come on, Man. You haven’t exactly given us a lot to go on,” Sam agreed. “Why the guessing games anyway?”

“Okay, Sam, you’ve been on the trail of a Trickster who seems to be following us around. We know one of those beings, and he’s not around anymore. Cas, you saw me disappear and shift time when I came back. Gabriel is dead. I _inherited_ these abilities.”

“Dean, that would be a ludicrous assumption on our parts. Gabriel was an archangel,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, Dean, he was only pretending to be a Trickster,” Sam shook his head, looking at Dean as if he was debating seeking professional help for his older brother.

“No! That’s just it! He wasn’t only pretending. Look I thought it pretty crazy too, but the vessel he had? He stole that body from the _real_ Trickster, so not only was he in ‘witness protection’, but he also had to take over Loki’s territory, or Coyote or whoever would swoop in. He had to keep the balance. Now, after he died, his spot was left open, and he needed to appoint someone to take his place. So he popped in on me in a…” Dean blushed looking away from both men, “dream.”

“What kind of dream?” Castiel asked suspiciously.

Dean’s flush darkened, “I don’t really think that’s important.”

“It makes all the difference. Was it an active dream, or a stagnant dream?” Castiel demanded.

“Um… kinda active,” Dean explained. “Look, I got the impression he had one shot at this, and he took it where he could. He was really there, all right? How else would I have woken up like this? He even mojo’d part of the dream away.”

“That’s unsettling,” Castiel mused.

“You’re telling me,” Dean grumbled.

“What was the subject matter that he… _mojo’d_ away?” Castiel pressed.

Dean choked, “I’ll tell you later.”

Sam shot his brother a puzzled look before shaking his head. “Sounds legit to me, Cas.”

“Yes, it does,” Castiel said grimly.

“Okay, so why the doom and gloom?” Dean asked. “This is awesome. I’m awesome. We now have a leg-up over Lucifer. Shouldn’t you guys be thanking me?”

“Dean, if you become a demi-god, then you forfeit your human free will. If Michael catches wind of this, he no longer requires your permission,” Castiel explained.

Dean gaped, “Oh God.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Dean slumped down on the couch, bracing his head in his hands. “He can just body jump me whenever, then. No questions asked. God damn, Gabriel. Think he knew?”

No one answered.

“There is a solution, Dean,” Castiel said eventually. “You give over the power to another human.”

Dean looked up and shook his head, “Who, Cas? There aren’t exactly a lot of people I would trust with this, you know?”

The three men slumped down, defeated. Any friends they had been close enough to had gone now. That left family. Sam, for obvious reasons, was out of the question, which mean the next option was Bobby – who would not take too kind to being turned into a monster – or a random stranger.

Sam shot his head up, “Dean, the solution is obvious!”

“What?” Dean blinked.

“Cas!” Sam proclaimed. “Look, who do we trust more than Cas? And Cas is basically human now, right? So what if you just transfer them over to Cas? He’s already in his vessel, and Jimmy’s long gone anyway, right?”

Castiel nodded, hesitantly.

Sam continued, “We know well enough that Angel Grace and Loki’s powers can co-mingle. Gabriel carried it for years. Cas already knows how to control powers that no other human would be able to manage. Cas gets some mojo back, you get your free will back, and it’s win-win all around!”

“Cas?” Dean asked.

Castiel looked away, staring blankly down at the Bible sitting closed and innocent in front of him. He placed a hand on the cracked leather of the binding and took a deep breath through his nose, before easing it out slow and shaky.

“Yes, that could serve,” Castiel answered quietly. “My Father may be displeased, but it could serve.”

“Cas,” Dean began, but didn’t continue. Castiel was halfway fallen anyway, how could one fully console an angel who was about to lose everything he ever knew?

“But that’s just it!” Sam said enthusiastically. “Gabriel flew under the radar for _years_. _Centuries_ even, right? If you take on the Trickster role, you get your own witness protection program, and it may preserve what Grace you do have remaining. You’re protected from the other angels, you still have powers, and we may actually have a chance to win this thing. You’ll still be an angel, just like Gabriel was still an angel. You’ll just be… enhanced.”

“What is remaining is minimal,” Castiel flexed his hand, staring at chapped skin and tracking faint blue veins with his eyes. “If by taking on Loki’s powers I do maintain what I have left, I would be forever grateful. I would also continue to be able to help you. As I am now, I’m…” Castiel didn’t finish his thought, he just turned his eyes back to the Bible and traced the embossed gold cross on the cover.

Dean stood abruptly and grasped both Castiel’s shoulders, waiting until the blue eyed man peered up at him. “Castiel, you don’t have to do this.”

“Dean,” Castiel smiled faintly. “It is the complete opposite. I _do_ have to do this.”

Dean shook his head. “But why, Cas?”

Castiel met Dean square in the eye. “To do as I have always done. To do what I have been doing since I pulled you from Perdition. To save you, Dean. If I were to lose you to Michael… I—” Castiel closed his mouth so quickly they could hear the clacking of his teeth. The falling angel looked away, the faintest of pink tingeing his cheeks.

Sam coughed, “I’m going to um… Go and be, ah… Gone.” The slamming of the motel room door was only seconds behind Sam’s hurried words.

“That was odd,” Castiel remarked, frowning at the closed door.

Dean chuckled, a little strained, “Yeah well, that’s Sam.” Dean finally released Castiel’s shoulders and slumped in the chair across from the blue-eyed man. Castiel continued to idly trace the letters on the Bible’s cover.

Dean finally spoke up, “So, you’re absolutely positive by being Loki’s successor I’ve forfeited my rights, here?”

Castiel nodded firmly, “Yes, I am certain. That is the only feasible explanation for why Gabriel was allowed to take on Loki’s persona and profession without permission. You are now a Pagan Demi-God in a human body. Your body, therefore, already belongs to a higher power, which means Michael essentially has to grapple out the Trickster side of you and then he can take over your being. Michael is very powerful, Dean.”

“Which means he wouldn’t have that much trouble taking over,” Dean inferred.

“Precisely. Gabriel was the weakest of the four Archangels, if he was able to do it, then Michael will certainly be able to. It is either Bobby, or me, Dean. We have no other options. Bobby already has his purpose, whereas I am now no more than a vessel cast adrift.”

“No, Cas! You aren’t. You’re one of us. Team Free Will, remember? Even if I could keep the Trickster powers and you became human entirely, you would _always_ have a place here,” Dean said firmly.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered in awe.

“Always, Cas. You’re family now, and you know that Winchesters don’t let family go lightly. So just tell me how to do this thing and then we can get back to averting the Apocalypse. Gabriel just snapped his fingers… Should I give that a shot?”

Castiel shook his head. “Gabriel was much more powerful. I think…” Castiel trailed off.

“What, Cas?” Dean prompted.

“This is rather embarrassing,” Castiel murmured gruffly.

“Dude, this is me you’re talking to. I don’t think there’s much for _you_ to be embarrassed about.”

Castiel coughed, “I believe prolonged and, um… intimate physical contact need be in place for you to channel your will through.”

“Ah…” Dean’s mouth open and closed for a minute, flashing back to that dream Gabriel had interrupted what seemed eons ago now, but had only been a mere few weeks.

“A… hug may serve,” Castiel said. “Though I think it best if it were a… a _kiss_.”

Dean straightened with a grin, “A hug or a kiss? That’s it…? Dude, that’s nothing. We’ll try both.”

Castiel flushed, and then Dean vividly remembered he had a virgin angel in his presence, and maybe a virgin angel who had not only never had sex, but had likely never kissed anyone before either. So maybe this was a little bigger of a deal for Castiel than it was for Dean.

“Hey, hey, it’s cool, Cas,” Dean said gently, coming back over and crouching in front of Castiel. “First kiss, huh?”

“A hug may serve,” Castiel said hastily.

“Sure,” Dean nodded. “We’ll try that. But if not, well… your first kiss has to happen sometime, right?” Dean’s tone was strained a little, though he tried to keep it light. In reality, he was terrified to let on how - to him - a kiss seemed to be a long time in coming. He just hoped that he wouldn’t frighten off Castiel completely by the end of it.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Castiel nodded.

“Okay, stand up!” Dean grinned, bouncing to his feet. Castiel hesitantly climbed to his feet and reached out a faltering hand, before pulling it back tight against his body, pink cheeks growing darker.

Dean figured he’d have to take the lead here and without a second thought, reached out and pulled the startled angel tight into his arms. Castiel’s eyes remained wide-open in surprise, his arms and body stiff in the hold, before all at once he seemed to relax and brought his own arms up to circle around Dean’s waist.

Dean concentrated and _pushed_ , but he felt no shift or change. He pushed again but nothing happened. He pulled away from Castiel and met the blue-eyed man’s slightly shocked gaze.

“Feel different?” Dean ventured. He had known from the moment he had woken up that something was different about him when Gabriel had given Dean the powers.

Castiel shook his head, lips turning down in a puzzled frown. He moved to open his mouth and speak, but Dean didn’t let him get further than a slight parting of full lips.

Dean threw all caution to the wind and leaned in, capturing Castiel’s mouth in his own, eyes sliding shut at the gentle, warm pressure. Castiel gasped a little in surprise, the hand that he had not yet dropped from Dean’s waist clutching at the soft cotton of Dean’s shirt.

Castiel returned the kiss, hesitantly at first, mouth a little clumsy, but soon he began to follow Dean’s lead and Dean snaked his tongue between gently parted lips, dancing within the dark warmth of Castiel’s mouth. Dean concentrated again, and _pushed_. He felt the difference this time, instantly, as if tiny shocks were dancing pleasantly along his nerve endings, covering his entire body in electric little tingles. When he pulled away, he was panting slightly and Castiel was staring dazedly into Dean’s eyes.

“So?” Dean asked, voice low and rough.

“I…” Castiel faltered.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean asked, worriedly.

Castiel cleared the fog from his mind and shook his head, turning the faintest traces of a smile on Dean. The effect was so sudden that Dean felt breathless all over again.

“Yes, I am,” Castiel finally answered. “More than okay…”

Dean smiled and cupped Castiel’s cheek gently in his palm. “That’s good, Cas. Real good.”

“Dean… Could we… Could we do that again?” Castiel asked shyly, a slight smile curling his lips.

“Yeah, yeah we can,” Dean nodded. Dean leaned in again, to capture those inviting lips in his own, before Castiel pulled back and blinked.

“Dean,” Castiel said.

“What is it?” Dean asked, suddenly worried.

“I have the most curious sensation.”

“Ah… what?”

“I want chocolate.”

Dean laughed, a full belly laugh at that. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last of his chocolate bars. He moved to hand it to Castiel, but before the blue-eyed Trickster could take it, Dean pulled it back with a quirky grin.

“Dean,” Castiel pouted.

“You can have this, Cas, but it’ll cost you,” Dean said, eye glinting with mirth.

Castiel smiled, slow and gentle, before he leaned in and placed a kiss on Dean’s lips.

xx

He cocked a brow at the man at his side, whiskey-coloured eyes dancing. “Isn’t that kind of a roundabout way to save him?”

“When have you ever known me to go about these things differently?” A gentle laugh and a smile in return. “Besides, I had my ulterior motives.”

“It’s a big damn epic love story.”

“Well, no writer should conclude their career without penning at least one.”

**End**


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